A Mind Like Mine
by InAMoment
Summary: Bruce admits to being outsmarted by the Joker all those years ago, when he had his chance to beat him at his little games and save Rachel, but failed. No, Bruce sees now, the only way to defeat the Joker is to play him against himself. Literally.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Batman. **_Or his movie!_

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><p>"I found him, he's here." Bruce growled quietly into his walkie-talkie.<p>

He knew Alfred could see what he was seeing through his eyes right now, literally. The glowing eyes on his Batman mask were the only visible sign of his current location, to the naked eye, in the pitch blackness of the surrounding shadows engulfing him.

He watched from behind an unmarked building, as the little eight year old 'Joker' pulled his jacket tighter around his chest in a feeble attempt to better shelter himself from the cold air as he sat on the steps to what Bruce could only assume was his parents apartment. But Bruce didn't know who he was currently living with, nor did he care much, he just needs the Joker.

If he call him anything else.

And of course at this age the boy is too young to become the Joker just yet. Not that Bruce is going to let that happen, but he didn't and still doesn't even know his real name. He's not even sure if the kid has one. It wouldn't surprise him if he didn't. He has no records on anything, just like in the old days when he was the mass murdering clown who terrorized Gotham and took Rachel's life.

His Rachel.

Bruce tried his best not to think of her right now and focus on what he came here for.

The Joker.

It was pure luck that Bruce had found him, but he figured the kid would be living somewhere in the dumps considering his past reputation. Or future. Bruce has to remember that he's almost thirty years in the past right now, but it's also another dimension within the thirty year time laps itself , so technically any little thing he says or does could possibly alter Gotham's future greatly.

And that's exactly what he plans on doing.

"Look at him." Alfred's voice pulled Bruce back to reality. "Look at his face."

He focused back on the kid Joker, who now had a grey beanie pulled over his head and was staring intently at something in his hands. It looked to be paper, maybe a picture of sorts, Bruce wasn't sure, but he knew what Alfred was taking about immediately. It was the whole reason why Bruce knew he had found the young Joker to begin with.

His scars. Red and slightly puffed on his face as if they were still fresh. Bruce felt a quick pang of sympathy shoot through his heart to see the young boy already with those morbid deformities splitting across his features. He never knew how the Joker got his scars, but even today he's sure he doesn't want to know, nor he does want to feel sympathy for the Joker, ever. No matter his age.

The young Joker hopped up from his spot on the steps and sauntered over to a metal trash can where he disposed of whatever it was that he was holding earlier. Bruce watched with detached interest as he then proceeded to fish a lighter out of his jacket pocket and light the trash on fire. After he was satisfied it caught flame, he held his bare hands over the burning garbage to warm them up.

Typical Joker move, setting things on fire. Bruce almost smirked at the recognition..almost.

"It's now or never, Master Wayne." Alfred warned.

Bruce knew he was right. It's time to get this over with. He, as quietly as only Batman could, made his way over to where the Joker was standing, but also made a conscious effort to keep himself to the shadows at best. He didn't want to have to chase the kid down if he decided to bolt on him at the last second.

But of course the Joker, once again, caught Bruce by surprise when he suddenly turned his attention fully on him. Bruce paused for a second, unsure if it was surprise that the Joker had spotted him so quickly, or the look in the kid's eyes, that made him do so. Bruce took notice of the little bits of blonde hair peaking out from under his beanie, the dark contrast making his hair and skin look paler than they actually were, but what really caught Bruce's attention was sparkle in his eyes.

It wasn't the typical naive happy sparkle of child-like innocence, no, it was the kind of sparkle that raised the hair on the back of your neck, that kind of look that makes you want to hide a gun under your pillow just so you can sleep at night, it was that same look of laughter in the Joker's eyes that Bruce had seen too many times over in his days when the Joker thought he knew something that he didn't already.

He had enough of this.

The kid Joker watched with cat-like interest, but made no move to run or stop him, as Bruce quickly grabbed a hold of him and sprayed him in the face with a small dosage of standard knockout gas. The boy fell limp and Bruce hoisted his unconscious body over his shoulder, and just as quickly as before, retreated back into the shadows.

Bruce also had to keep in mind that Batman didn't exist in these days, so it's not like he can go around and leave traces of chemicals and equipment that have yet to be invented. A quick and stealthy in and out job is all that was required of him.

It felt weird to think that he's technically a kidnapper now, but this isn't just any kid. It's the Joker. So it was a necessary evil, and not only will Bruce be bettering Gotham's future entirely, he will also be accomplishing the one most important thing that is to _him._

Saving Rachel Dawes's life.

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><p><strong>AUTHOR'S NOTE:<strong>

**And there goes chapter one! **

**This is actually my first Batman fic, but I hope you guys found it interesting enough to, oh I don't know..**

**Drop a review? **_Two?_ **Just one? **_Three!_

**Chapter 2 will be up as soon as I can get to finishing it, just know that I AM** (**_I_**_n**AM**oment)_ **working**** on it!**

**Review? :D **_I'll tell you how I got my scars..._


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I still do not own Batman.** _Or Starbucks or the Statue Of Liberty..._

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><p>Bruce eyed the unconscious body of his child captive atop the medal table he had placed him on, with distaste as he removed his cowl and quickly but methodically stripped himself of his bulletproof armor with practiced ease.<p>

Alfred stood quietly at the other end of the table with his hands folded behind his back, eyeing the boy much like Bruce was. Both men secretly hoping for the other to be the first one to break the tense silence that seemed to invite itself in with the boy's presence. The only sounds audible at the moment were the dull clinks and thuds of Bruce removing and putting away his bat armor piece by piece.

Alfred sighed after another few moments of the tense silence, realizing Bruce wasn't going to speak, he gave in. "Did anyone see you?"

"I should hope not." Bruce's reply was quick and slightly tense.

Alfred waited expectantly for him to continue, but when the tension that seemed to be rolling off of Bruce in waves began to grow in volume, he was forced to break the silence once more.

"And what of _him_?" Alfred motioned towards the sleeping kid Joker,"Was he of any trouble?"

Bruce sighed heavily and rubbed the back of his neck tiredly. "No...no he wasn't, not at all. He didn't fight back actually...didn't even struggle..." The words faded out when Bruce crossed his arm over his chest and took another tense moment of silence to glare calculatingly at the young boy's sleeping form.

Alfred opened his mouth to speak again, but held his breath in quiet surprise when the child suddenly clenched his hand into a tight fist before going limp again, signaling his return into the conscious world.

Reflexively, Bruce's eyes traveled up to gauge the other man's reaction, taking notice of the same look of surprise and uncertainty on Alfred's face that mirrored his own.

"He's waking up..." Bruce turned and began to hastily rummage through the previously thrown about mess of files Lucius had given him for emergencies.

"What do you propose we do now, Sir?" Alfred asked, not taking his eyes off of the boy.

"What I had planned for before I brought him here..where is it?..." Bruce mumbled, still searching through his mountain of paper.

"And that would be?" He asked solemnly, already knowing the answer, just not liking it.

"Ah! Found it..." Bruce returned with a small plastic syringe, no longer than the hand that was holding it, filled with a clear, almost thick looking liquid. "Erase his memories."

Alfred stood in silence with a seemingly endless frown etched onto his face. He watched Bruce flick the syringe a few times and squeeze the bottom, pushing out any unwanted air bubbles before turning the boy's head and placing the tip of the needle to his neck. A determined look on his face.

"Are you sure about this, Master Wayne?" Alfred asked in a last ditch effort to change the man's mind, though knowing his attempt to be pointless when Bruce already began injecting the liquid into the boy's neck.

With new born confidence, Bruce removed the needle and set the syringe in a plastic bag. "As sure as I'll ever be, Alfred." He tried to assure the old man. "Has his room been prepared?"

Alfred withheld a disapproving sigh, seeing the satisfied look in Bruce's eyes, and nodded his head once. "I'll get to it right now, Sir."

"Thanks, Alfred." Bruce gave a small smile and nodded his head once in return. "I want to get The Joker up there as soon as possible."

Alfred raised an eyebrow and gave a tired look. "You mean your son?"

Bruce's confidence faltered for a bit at those words. The Joker...this child...his son...this child Joker, is his son now. "Home sweet home and all that, right?" His joke to try and lighten the awkward revelation came out a bit breathless, even to his own ears.

Alfred gave a knowing look, "I just hope you know what you're getting yourself into, Master Wayne."

Bruce cleared his throat and nodded in hopeful understanding, "Yeah..well," He looked down, with the tiredness of last nights events catching up to him and noticed he was still holding the baggied syringe in his hand. "I'm gunna go take a nap." He tossed the empty syringe on the metal table. "Remind me to burn that later."

Alfred gave a small half smile,"Will do, Sir."

Bruce slid his arms under the Child's small body and tossed his upper half over his shoulder with ease. The boy's limp arms and head bobbed against Bruce's back as he walked off.

"Is that any way to carry your son?" Alfred tisked.

Bruce smiled over his shoulder, "Just get his room all set up please, Alfred. "

"Where are you going?" Alfred called after him.

Bruce called back, "To fill out some paperwork." and walked out, leaving Alfred to his own devices.

He shook his head, he could only see this ending badly for Bruce, not to mention all of Gotham City. Alfred sighed and left to go prepare the boy's new living quarters.

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><p><strong>AUTHOR'S NOTE:<strong>

**Chapter two, people! :)**

**I apologize for the shortness of this chapter, with job hunting and school I don't really have enough time to make them any longer. I am currently working on chapter three, but don't expect it to be much longer than this one. **_You suck..._

**And I apologize if I suck because of that. Oh! And yes, the kid Joker will have have an official name in the next chapter. **_Don't make that suck too! I'll be the one that has to live with it._

**Any reviews would be like gold to me! :D **_And just for the record, I'm not a kid._


	3. Chapter 3

**Special thank you to my readers and to those who have taken the time to leave me such kind reviews, this story would be nothing without you!**

**Disclaimer: Batman is that thing that I don't own.** _And never will!_

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><p>Alfred lightly placed the napkin next to the plate of freshly made food he himself had cooked and prepared for Bruce. He picked it up to carry to his room, as is his every morning routine since the birth of Batman, when, to Alfred's surprise, Bruce walked in to the kitchen fully clothed and carrying a stack of folders in his hands.<p>

"Well good morning Master Wayne," Alfred greeted, hiding his surprise. "you're up earlier than usual. I pr-"

"I've hired a tutor." Bruce interrupted none to quietly.

Alfred blinked, no longer hiding his growing surprise. "What?"

Bruce placed his stack of folders on the counter top and began flipping through the first few. "And a nanny."

Alfred set the tray of food down next to Bruce's folders, "A tutor and a nanny? May I ask why, Sir?"

"The tutor is only temporary, just until he's caught up to where he needs to be in his education, then he will got to school." Bruce continued talking without taking his eyes off the papers before him. "The nanny will stay with us until he is old enough to take care of himself."

Alfred caught the hidden implication, _"Until we know he can be trusted."_

Bruce looked up at Alfred and smiled. "I figured you could do without the stress of having to raise another child, yeah?"

Alfred returned the smile and nodded, "Of course, Sir." He wasn't so sure if hiring the nanny was a good idea, seeing as he didn't want anyone snooping around, though he did appreciate the fact that he wouldn't have to worry about the child's whereabouts and weather or not he was causing trouble far beyond the limits of standard deviant behavior. This is still technically The Joker they are dealing with after all.

Bruce closed the folders, stacking them back into a pile and hooked them under his arm. He turned back to Alfred, "The boy's new alias is Jack Wayne. From here on out he will no longer be referred to as Joker."

"Jack Wayne?" Alfred tested out the name, "Son of Bruce Wayne playboy billionaire?" He half joked.

Bruce smirked, playing along. "Of course old man, you know how it goes."

Alfred smiled a bit, but it fell with Bruce's next sentence.

"He woke up last night when I got home. Thankfully he wasn't awake long enough to stray too far from his room." Bruce sighed. "Thanks for doing that by the way, the room looks great. Must have been a lot of work..."

Alfred nodded again, "No need to thank me, Sir, I was happy to do it." He smiled reassuringly, "And yes, it was a lot of work."

They both shared a quiet laugh before Bruce made a turn to leave, "Alright, Iv'e got some papers here I have to get filled out, the nanny won't be here till tomorrow and the tutor not till next week, think you can manage him for today?" He turned and grabbed his keys from the couch side table and made to leave.

"Sir, don't forgot your breakfast." Alfred reminded, gesturing to the tray of untouched food.

Bruce turned to face Alfred, taking slow backward steps towards his escape. "Just give it to Jok-um, _Jack. _I gave him more of the knockout gas to keep him under until one of us was awake enough to keep an eye on him, I'm pretty sure he'll be hungry when he wakes up. And he already thinks his real name is Jack, so you don't have to worry about forgetting." Bruce turned his back on Alfred, talking quickly over his shoulder, "Though he might have some questions for you when you see him, bye!" He ran out the door, keys jangling in his hand.

Alfred sighed and shook his head. Sometimes Bruce still acted like the boy he used to be twenty years ago, he just hoped that.._Jack _wouldn't be as hyperactive. He picked up the now cold plate of food and placed it in the oven to keep warm until the boy woke, all the while trying to think of the questions that Jack might have for him and how he was going to answer each one. He would have to make them sound believable. The boy was..well, still just a boy, but Alfred knew he wasn't stupid. The Joker was known for many things, and possessing a high level of intelligence was one of them.

_"No mistakes!" _He thought, _"Today is going to be a long day."_

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><p>Jack moaned quietly under his breath and attempted, with extreme effort, to keep his eyes open. He tried to remember where he was or...<em>who<em> he was. His head felt almost as if it were detached from the rest of his body, he attempted to touch his head as he fought his drooping eyelids and cloudy vision, but gave up after he realized he wasn't moving like he wanted to be. Or moving at all for that matter.

What had happened? Where was he? Why does he feel like this? He didn't know, he could hardly even think straight. Jack moaned and tried to touch his head again, with no such luck. He felt like his hazy thoughts were being dragged through his mind as if they were being dragged through the mud. They were coming too slow and he could hardly even recognize them as his own.

Sighing, he gave into whatever it was that was trying to pull him back under, loosing the fight to what he knew was going to win out in the end anyway. He wanted to keep fighting it, even if he had no memories that he could call upon right now, he didn't like to give in easily, that much he knew for sure. Since he currently had no reliable thoughts or recollections, he had to revert to trusting his instincts, and his instincts told him that he would be okay for now. He could sort things out when his body wasn't so tired.

Jack finally let his eyes droop to a close and allowed sleep to pull him down into a black oblivion.

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><p><strong>AUTHOR'S NOTE:<strong>

**And that, ladies and gentlemen, was tonight's entertainment! Haha I know, I'm a _clown. _;) **_No, I believe that would be ME._

**Anywho, It's 3:37am and I though since I couldn't sleep Id spit out one more chapter. I hope it came out alright and it's not just a big jumble of my overly tired rantings. ****I also hope that changing Jack Napier to Jack Wayne wasn't too stupid. I originally had his name as Joseph Wayne, because it just sounded better, but I didn't have the heart to change it from the Jack we all know and love. :) **_You still suck._

**So I apologize if I'm still sucking because of that. **

**Also I'm hoping to reach at least just ten reviews, since I know people always go for the higher viewed stories I figured ten would at least get me slightly noticed MAYBE. :)** _Reviews won't get you noticed, no, SCARS will get you noticed!__  
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**Review pretty please with sugar on top? :3**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own Batman, you people should know this by now!** _I'll get my knife...__  
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><p>Jack could begin to feel the softness of the sheets beneath his palms as he was slowly pulled back into consciousness. His restless mind felt irritated and overly groggy from too much sleep and his muscles ached from lack of physical movement. Jack felt like a coma patient finally returning to the world of the living after spending so much time forcibly cocooned within his own subconscious.<p>

With a pained groan Jack willed his eyes to open, feeling as if they had been previously glued shut, and attempted to take in his current surroundings as best he could with the surrounding brightness of the room fighting his decision. He quickly became aware that he was laying flat on his back, his feet touched together and arms pressed snuggly against his sides, almost as if he were being prepared for mummification.

He began to feel a mild heat on the right side of his face. Jack concentrated on focusing on the light above him, widening and blinking his eyes so as to clear the sleep induced haze that clouded his vision. The clean white ceiling above him came into focus when he his vision slowly cleared up, soon followed by the small embedded ceiling lights that had been peppered there in seemingly random order across the obviously large room.

Jack saw the brightness that was coming from above him was not actually from the small ceiling lights themselves, but rather it was the sunlight streaking into the room and across his body from a nearby window. He slowly, but fully turned his head to the side, feeling the rather stiff muscles in his neck being forcibly stretched from lack of use, then was forced to crush his eyes close when the blinding sun light hit his irises tenfold.

Jack's hand flew to his eyes out of reflex reaction to rub them as if that would stop the stinging pain. After brief a moment of recovery, Jack decided it was time to investigate. He couldn't just lay here till he got his memories back. Of course he remembered..well, nothing, but he remembered that he _didn't _remember. That he needs to rely on his instincts for now if he were going to stand any chance of recalling any of his own memories.

Or anything at all for that matter.

His stiffly sat up and sighed at the relief the movement brought his muscles. He slipped his small legs off the side of the bed, letting them hang there for a second while he took a moment to examine the room he was in. A large, especially when compared to him, clean rectangular bedroom with white painted walls. He spotted a few remote control cars stuffed into a basket on a low hanging shelf next to the dresser at the far back wall. It was obvious that whoever owns this house is rich, and Jack, if he could remember anything big about his life, being rich would be it...right?

At least _he_ thought so. Having a lot of money didn't ring any bells in Jack's mind, if anything, picturing himself growing up as part of a rich family all but rubbed him the wrong way. Like that feeling you get when you're not sure if someone is lying to you or not. But then again, what does he know? His memory is obviously not the most reliable thing right now anyway. Not to mention he had just woken up after who knows how long.

The reminder of too much sleep sent his hollow stomach into an angry snarl. Jack winced and instinctively covered his stomach with his hand until it stopped growling at him. He squinted down at his stomach and tried to remember the last time he had eaten something, but, just as he half expected, came up with nothing. He looked back up and slid himself off the high bed, bare feet landing silently atop the tan carpet below, and began his investigation around this new room. Jack turned around towards the opposite wall and saw that it wasn't a wall, but what had let the sunlight in and nearly blinded him earlier.

Two large sliding glass doors took up most of the side wall, blocking entrance to a small balcony, though it was plenty large enough for Jack. He made his way over and placed two pale hands on the equally as pale handle, and yanked. When nothing happened he yanked it again, giving a quiet _huff _as he did. Jack frowned. Someone must have locked it seeing as there was no other explanation as to why it wouldn't bend to his will. His frown deepened, as for who that someone was, he didn't know, but he was sure he'd find out sooner or later.

His stomach growled for food, again, and he swallowed, licking his chapped lips.

A few glasses of water wouldn't hurt him either.

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><p>Alfred yawned and glanced at the clock above the stove, <em>10:29a.m. <em>He sighed and continued to polish off the last few pieces of the good silverware that he only set our for special events or celebrations, which, since Bruce had turned to his vigilante ways, was never. He wasn't even sure why he continued to polish them regularly. It's not like they were being used so they needed it at all, and they were old anyway, if it came down to it he could just go out and pay for some new ones. Alfred shook his head, it wasn't a big deal, he supposed that maybe he was just looking for something to take his mind off of the fact that he was placed with the burden of having to keep an eye on Jack for today. Not to mention that he has been up since five this morning and is in dire need of a nap, though knows he has to keep himself alert just in case Jack finally wakes up. And now, despite his previous uncertainty, he couldn't wait for the nanny to arrive tomorrow.

Alfred rolled his sleeves a bit higher to keep them from sliding down, and glanced at the clock again, _10:37a.m. _He set the newly polished knife down into perfect alignment with the others to go and scrub his hands off in the sink. _"My," _He thought sarcastically, _"time__ really flies when you're having fun."_

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><p>Jack quietly made his way down the hallway, trailing his small fingers along the wall next to him with his right hand as he tip-toed towards the large and overly expensive looking dining room. He could tell it was the dining room because it had a thick rectangular table in the middle, surrounded by fancy chairs that were too big for his liking. Soon his fingers reached the end of the wall and he came to a stop. He peeked, carefully, around the corner to make sure no one would see him before he would see them. When the cost was clear, he stepped out into the room and began walking again, his fingers never leaving the wall.<p>

Jack paused when he could hear some small noises coming from the adjoining room ahead. Like any good eight year old would do, he decided to snoop. Still in full investigation mode, Jack darted to the other end the room and pressed his back flat against the wall, so he could peek into the next room just like he did with the one he's in now.

He slid his body along the wall till he hit the edge, then, just as carefully as before, peeked one eye out. Jack saw the room to be a kitchen, but what really caught his attention was the man hunched over the counter top, who's choice in clothing seemed a bit strange, but other wise meant nothing to him. What the man was doing, Jack couldn't tell seeing as he was facing away from him.

He repressed himself against the wall when the man glanced in what Jack had thought was his direction, waited a few seconds, and then peeked around the corner again. He watched the man turn and place the cleanest, sharpest looking knife he had ever seen, down with other just as clean and just as sharp looking knifes. Jack instantly knew he wanted to take one. To touch it, to play with it just once. Jack didn't know what it was that made him want to have one in his hand, he just knew that he did. With perfect timing, he watched the man turn away from them and straight to the sink. If Jack was going to steal a knife...

Now was his chance.

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><p><strong>AUTHOR'S NOTE:<strong>

**Chapter four! YAY! :D I'm so glad had time to get this one up!**

**Tough this is probably the last chapter that will be up for a while. I have a birthday tomorrow and then the start of work the day after that. **_Not if your work building were to mysteriously burn down...__  
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**As for the lack of description of Jack's room...well it's just really really plain with only the basics because Bruce does not trust him with anything. Sorry I kind of forgot to squeeze that information into my story.** _...t__hen you could write about me. Every. Day.__  
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**On a side note, thank you again to those who have viewed on or added my story, and to my reader:** anon**, since I can't thank you personally over PM, I would like to leave you a thank you in my author's note for leaving me two awesome reviews that actually helped encourage me to write this chapter here for you guys.**

**Anyway, I hope you all liked this chapter! :)** _If that thought doesn't put a smile on you're face, I don't know what will!*pulls out knife*_

**Review? :3 **_Smile..._


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Batman isn't mine, but _the_ JOKER...isn't mine either :(** _Why so serious?_

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><p>Jack, with mild interest, watched the old guy wave his finger at him after he had snatched the knife from his grasp and begun lecturing him about how bad he was supposedly behaving...or something like that. Jack wasn't really listening, the only thing on his mind was the knife...<em>his knife, <em>and how irritaging this man was who took it from him.

But that's oaky, he would just go find a new toy to play with, a new knife..or anything close to it. Come to think of it...it didn't matter to Jack, actually, he wasn't sure exactly what..or how much _did_ matter to him. Not yet anyway. Though he did think that knifes were a good start as he watched the annoying old man place the knife in a box and high out of his reach.

"There." He turned around to face Jack again. "Out of sight, out of mind."

Jack only glared in response.

"Well come on then, you must be starving." He took the boy's hand and dragged him over to sit at the table, glancing down at him,"You may address me as Alfred." Jack only crossed his arms and pouted, refusing to even make eye contact.

Alfred sighed,"Stay here, I'll make you something to eat." He made his way back to the front of the kitchen. "And don't think I haven't got my eye on you now." He gave a stern look that Jack still refused to acknowledge.

Alfred sighed and shook his head, hoping that Bruce knew what he was getting them both into by bringing this child into their home. Of course that's just what he is, a child, but that makes no difference. He will always be the Joker in Alfred's mind. And he can only hope that Bruce will come to his senses sooner rather than later.

Hh glanced over his shoulder at Jack who, to Alfred's extreme discomfort, was staring back. Alfred didn't keep eye contact long enough to desipher the boy's mood, but he could certainly feel the two smoking craters being burned into his back as he worked.

Jack scarfed down the plate of eggs and bacon and hashbrowns the second Alfred brought it to him. Alfred was glad the boy wasn't too upset so as to lose his appetite, though he did fear he was going to lose a limb the way Jack had inhaled his food like a savage animal. He wondered if the boy had ever eaten a solid meal before...and then decided on probably not.

He returned with a glass of milk for Jack, only to find the table empty, save for the glass plate which had apparently been licked clean. Alfred set the milk on the counter and crouched down to look under the table when he suddenly heard the loud and the all to familiar sound of shattering glass from down the hall. He quickly made his way to wherever he thought the noise was coming from when he heard more shattering glass and Jack giggling like mad.

Alfred had the sinking feeling that his life was only going to go one way from here on out.

Down.

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><p><em>Three months earlier-<em>

_Bruce trugged into his room, carelessly tossing his dress shoes by the door, and made his way to the bed after a long day of endless meetings and signing paperwork. He sat dow with a groan and began to undo the knot on his tie, he slipped it over his head and dropped it on the sheets behind him, followed by his coat and dress shirt. He stood and slowly made his way to the full length mirror on the other side of the room. Bruce sighed as he examined the fairly large and fairly noticeable cuts and bruises that littered his arms torso. Being Batman sure came with a price, as did everything eles in his life. He glanced over his shoulder when his eyes caught the reflection of the small picture frame laying face down on the nightstand by his bed. Forgetting about his wounds for the time being, Bruce walked over and picked up the frame, fully aware of whose photo lie within, and gently ran his thumb over the smilling face of Rachel Dawes. His Rachel. He felt regret grip his heart when her last words to him echoed though his memory-_

_"I love you too, Bruce." She stroked his cheek. "But I'm not sure a time will come when **you **don't need Batman..."_

_A tear formed at the corner of his eye but he blinked it away before it could fall. Why hadn't he stopped her? Why hadn't he protected her like he had promised? Why did he just let her walk away..._

_"...don't make me your one hope."_

_The picture slipped through Bruce's fingers, bouncing off the nightstand with a crack, when his phone starting ringing, ripping him from his memories. He cursed and lifted the frame back onto the nightstand, making sure there wasn't too much damage done to it minus the small chunk of glass missing from the upper left corner. He hadn't realized how deep in thought he was and mentally scolded himself for letting his guard down. Bruce grabbed his phone from his jacket pocket and saw who had disterbed him; Lucious._

_"Hello?" Bruce answerd a little to aggresively._

_"Am I calling at a bad time, Mr. Wayne?" _

_Bruce could tell by Lucious's tone of voice that he was teasing him again and had to fight the urge to tell him yes._

_"No. What do you need?" _

_"I believe it's what you need. Don't you remember what we had disscussed?"_

_Realization dawned on Bruce; the Project. "Is it ready?"_

_Lucious chuckled, "Don't get so ahead of yourself, Mr. Wayne. Remember, patience is virtue."_

_Bruce sighed and was about to speak but Lucious cut him off._

_"I have the blueprints."_

_Bruce smiled, "Perfect. I'll be there by tomorrow and we can get to work on it."_

_"Now there is no guarantee we can even make this possible..but if you want to help me work out some of the flaws," The teasing started again."you're more than welcome to stop by and do my job for me." _

_Now it was Bruce's turn to laugh, "Goodbye, Lucious."_

_"Safe traveling." _

_Bruce hung up and tossed his phone on the nightstand next to the picture of Rachel, and walked to the bathroom to take a shower and then finally get some well diserved sleep. With the anxiousness to make his plans succeed, Bruce stored the thought of replacing the glass in the picture frame in the back of his mind for another day. Right now, he had much bigger things to take care of and won't allow himself to be worried over anything else._

_"Master Wayne?" _

_Bruce hadn't heard Alfred walk in. He turned to face him, "What is it, Alfred?"_

_"Lucious left a message for you earlier-"_

_"Thank you, but I already talked to him."_

_Alfred paused"..And?"_

_"He has the blueprints ready. I'm gunna go look them tomorrow."_

_Alfred's expression was stiff, "And you don't suppose I could deter you from-"_

_"No, Alfred, we'ver alredy disscussed this, and I've already made my decision."_

_Alfred just nodded his head once and left the room._

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><p><strong>AUTHOR'S NOTE:<strong>

**I know I know, I'm too slow with the updates and my chapters are way too short blah blah blah Well you know what?...**

**I'm so incredibly Sorry! *Grovels on knees* Please forgive me!**

**Between work(which is a killer)and Krav and kickboxing I have no time on my hands ever! I know it's been like a year since Iv'e added a new chapter to this but I hope you guys are still with me..?** **Hello? ****Anyone? **_Does__ it depress you to know just how alone you really are?_

**Also it's probably going to be awhile before I can get the next chapter up because I don't know when I'll get another day off...and I'm not very creative when I'm tired beyond heck. **_Work? Creative? Poor readers don't even know that you, ah, STEAL all your material from others. Tisk Tisk!_

**Hahaha nah, he's just joking!*shifty eyes***_  
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**I just want you guys to know I havn't abandon this story! Thank you all so much for being patient with me, I hope this chapter was worth...the wait. :(** _This story needs a better class of writer.__  
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**Review pretty please? :D **_What if we say ugly please?__  
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	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I don't own Batman or the Joker or their precious movie that apparently I wasn't invited to be a part of.** _Blah blah start the story already!_

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><p><em>Jack don't move! Jack sit still! Jack don't touch anything! Jack this, Jack that, Jack Jack Jack! <em>Jack was really beginning to hate his name. Couldn't _Alfred_ tell that he was just playing around? I mean, it's not like he _meant_ to knock over that funny looking vase on that funny looking table. It's not like he _purposely _tripped and fell onto it just to watch it shatter all over the nice _clean_ floor and into a million little pieces. He just wanted to have some fun!...

"Here." Alfred shoved a mop in Jack's face. "Mop up the dirt over there and I will sweep up the glass. And don't even think about running off! You're in big trouble young man, you just wait till your father hears of what you've done." Alfred walked off to get a broom for himself.

...And if Jack had happen to pick up that equally as funny looking plant on that same funny looking table and throw it at the wall...well that was just an accident too!

Jack stuck his tongue out at Alfred's retreating back before turning and slopping the wet mop on the pile of dirt that had slid down from the wall and onto the floor at his feet. A few drops of water hit his face and arms from the sudden impact and he blinked. A smile slowly crept over Jack's face when a thought suddenly occurred to him. A very _funny _thought. Jack giggled quietly under his breath and set the mop on the floor. He then got on his hands and knees and began to scoop all of the dirt into one big pile, glancing over his shoulder once or twice to make sure Alfred wasn't watching him. It's a surprise after all! With another giggle, Jack lifted himself off of the floor, bringing the mop with him, and began to wring the water out onto the dirt until only drops remained. With a satisfied _'hmph'' _he tossed the mop aside and began to stir and mush with his bare hands until it became nothing more than clumpy mud water. Jack frowned, realizing too late that he had poured too much water on it when the mud clumps dissolved and leaked through his small fingers like melted syrup.

But the distant sound of the front door opening and Alfred's conversing with someone who's voice Jack could not place, immediately drew his attention away from his muddy hands. He sprang to his feet, remembering what Alfred had told him, _"Don't even think about running off!." _Jack smirked, finding it funny that Alfred would tell him to not think about the one thing he was suppose to remember. The voices drew closer and another thought occurred to Jack. He giggled louder this time and scooped up the mop, the handle slipped a little in his hands but he held on tight. He knew they were coming so he would have to make this fast, all the while replaying Alfred's words in his head again. _"Don't even think about running off!" _He smiled._  
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Jack rolled the mop around in the muddy water until it was nice and soggy and smeared all over the floor, _"Don't even think about-"_

He turned to face where the table was and made his way towards the opposite wall, _"Don't even think-"_

Shattered glass crunched under every step he took, not that he was concerned, _"Don't even-"_

Jack reached his destination, eyes shining, still smiling, and swung the mop, _"Don't-"_

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><p>Bruce listen to Alfred prattle on and on about his bad day with Jack and how he knew the kid was nothing but trouble and how Bruce should have listened to him and really Bruce had stopped listening about twelve complaints ago. He just nodded and offered sympathy when called for it as they slowly made their way to wherever Alfred was leading them to. Bruce also refused to tell him that it was still early in the day and that most of his complaints were about Bruce's decisions and not against Jack himself. He wasn't ready to go down that road again, Bruce made his choice and he was sticking with it.<p>

"-you really should have known better!" Alfred gave a disappointed look. "And I should have said somethi-"

Right then a loud _thump_ hit the inside wall of the adjoining room. The two men looked at eachother for a quick moment, Bruce looked confused and curious whereas Alfred looked angry and full of disbelief. They both made their way into the room as fast as they could without running, but stopped short at the sight that greeted them. Especially Bruce. The once priceless antique vase his parents had collected from who-knows-where lay about the marble floor in pieces, the plant that had been next to it was missing but it was obvious that it had also been attacked seeing the dirt trails on the wall, and the hundred sloppy chunks of mud surrounded by a massive puddle of brown water made it look like someone had brought a hose into the room and then tried to scoop up the mess with their hands.

Bruce and Alfred's eyes simultaneously followed the trail of muddy footprints that led past the table, over the broken glass, and stopped at the wall where a small but still sizable puddle had formed. And directly above that, written over the formerly spotless wall, in big brown letters read: _ALFRED WAS HERE! _With a big smiley face drawn next to it. The footprints then led from the wall over to the back end of the large room to the grand piano where Jack currently stood, with the dirty mop in his hands and looking back at the two men like a deer caught in the headlights. Bruce was torn between disbelief and amusement. Jack was literally standing _on top _of the piano. What he was doing up there, Bruce didn't know, nor did he really want to he supposed.

Alfred's face went red with anger. "Jack! Get down right now!" He stormed over to Jack and yanked him from the piano. Jack dropped the mop, shock written all over his face. Bruce shook his head and half smiled as Jack got dragged from the room and out of view.

"Boys will be boys." Bruce muttered, though he knew Jack was no ordinary boy.

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><p><em>Three months earlier, two weeks after.<em>

_Bruce sat quietly at his desk with his head in his hands as he listened to the recordings Lucious had been documenting for the past weeks. A blank expression on his face. He had a sinking suspicion that their missions were being sabotaged with._

_"Experiment one, project one: Failed. Last known report: August, 2nd at 8:01pm. Our first attempt at sending our first project, D1-" Bruce fast forwarded."-the double had reported a success until trouble with connecting to-" Bruce pressed fast forward then play again. "It appears he has lost connection entirely w-" He skipped to the end."-pattern of questionable actions made by the double have forced our hand, all ties with it have have been severed. Project D1...Terminated."_

_Bruce skipped to the next recording._

_"Experiment two, project two: Failed. Last known report: August, 11th at 8:01pm. Our second attempt, project D2 will be sent back to retrieve the first double, if found-" He fast forwarded."We suspect a complication through the traveled time lap, both doubles has remained missing-"_

_Bruce skipped again._

_"Experiment three, project three: Failed. Last known report: August, 16th at 8:01pm. The-"_

_Skip_

_"Exp-"_

_Skip_

_"Experiment five, project five: Failed. Last known report: August, 20th at 8:01pm. Still no explanation for the sudden dis-" Fast forward."-project five: Terminated."_

_Bruce skipped all the way to the last recording._

_"Experiment nine, project nine: Failed. Last known report: August, 28th at 8:01pm. Still no word from the other side..."_

_Bruce tensed, listening to the blank static of the recording echo throughout his office, even though he had already listen to it a hundred times, it still got to him._

_"...we suspect all doubles have been murdered. All attempts at communication have been severed. Project nine: Terminated."_

_The recording came to an abrupt end and Bruce feared him and Lucious were running out of time. A sudden idea struck him, he half smiled. Bruce pulled out his cell and dialed Lucious. Unfortunately all he got was a recording, Lucious would have to call him back. Bruce could only hope it would be soon._

_"Lucious, it's Bruce, I need you to call be back immediately, I think I know of a way to fix the problem! Oh, and burn the old blueprints, because we're making new ones."_

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><p><strong>AUTHOR'S NOTE:<strong>

**I hope this chapter was long enough for you guys! I also hope it didn't stink. You know? Like that kind of stinky odorous smelly kind of stink that we all picture the Joker to smell like...**_"Uhh, what about me did you just say exactly?"_

**And thank you soooo much to all of you who have taken the time to leave a review on my story or favorited it or anything else! I also apologize if I can't thank you over PM right now, I'm super busy and I'm actually not allowed to play with my phone when I'm working, despite popular belief!** _"You think I smell?"__  
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**ALSO!**

**(not trying to be a party pooper)but has anyone else noticed that in TDK, the scene where the Joker walks into the room with the gangsters and does the pencil trick? Haha, who am I kidding, of course you do! But anyway(again, not trying to pick apart the movie cuz I would just have to kill myself if I ever did)ANYWAY, the Joker walks in the room, kills a gangster, mocks the other ones to their faces, and walks out with a million dollar bounty over his head. A million dollars of the gangsters money...**

**What? None of them had a gun? Lol.** _"No one thinks I smell!"_

**I guess what they say is true then, the Joker is just THAT SEXY AWESOME MIND WARPPINGLY INVINCIBLE!**

**Review? :D** _"I don't smell..."_


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